Undiscovered Gyrl: The novel that inspired the movie ASK ME ANYTHING (Vintage Contemporaries) by Allison Burnett Page A
Authors: Allison Burnett
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torture him. I wished I knew who the best man at his wedding was going to be so I could seduce him. I would take phone pics of his head between my legs and send them to Dan. And then I thought maybe I should seduce Martine instead. I love them seafood crepes! Ha! These nasty ideas did not make me feel better. I went downstairs and drank one of Mark’s fancy Dutch beers. That helped. Then I came up here and drank two more beers and smoked about five more cigarettes and that helped some more. Maybe someday I’ll be a famous alcoholic, chain-smoking writer. I’ll write a book about me and Dan. I wouldn’t have to make anything up because the truth is pretty fascinating. At least I think so.
• • •
I texted Jade three times just now. No answer. I bet that bitch is in love again just when I need her most. Probably with the kid in the Santa hat.
I got a birthday card today from Affie. A lame joke card. Only two days late. My dad didn’t write anything inside, just signed it. The hopeless scrawl of a dying man. Usually I spend Christmas with them but this year they’re driving downstate to visit Affie’s mom. I’m glad they will be gone. They both suck.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
I guess the babies got all the crying out of their systems last week because at today’s RIE class (I misspelled it before) there was no crying at all. The babies just laid there on their backs checking each other out like shy kids at a party.
RIE doesn’t believe in tummy time. Most parents put babies on their stomachs a lot, which mashes their faces into the floor or the mattress. They flail around pathetically. RIE believes “Why put a baby through that? Why make him unconfident like that?” They believe a baby will turn himself over when he’s good and ready. I bet my mom gave me a ton of tummy time because even though I have an outgoing personality, deep down I am not confident at all. I can still taste the floor, if you know what I mean.
• • •
Being a great parent is such a massive effort. Margaret is tired all the time. Breastfeeding is really exhausting, she says. And since Cole sleeps in their bed at night, every time he wakes up even for a second he reaches for her boob and it wakes her up. The other day she said she feels like her brain is turning to oatmeal.
The idea of sharing a bed with my husband and my baby is very cozy and appealing but when do you have sex? Never, I bet. Paul must be under intense pressure down there. Ha!
After work I was so desperate for a sympathetic friend I called Merci Gregoris, my big-titted, fake blonde, moley ex-lab partner. She says a bunch of kids from our class are back for Christmas break and having a party. It’s at the house of a computer genius named Freddy Black who wears bow ties every day. Maybe it will be fun. If not at least there’ll be liquor. She’s picking me up in 25 minutes. Must shower!
LATER: 11:48 p.m.
I wanted to leave the second I walked into the party because the house was infested with techies. They will probablymake extremely nice billionaire husbands some day but right now they are shockingly awkward and neurotic. Plus now that they all go to Harvard and M.I.T., they are deeply up their own butts. Which is insane. If you are a scrawny male virgin with acne and greasy hair, the last thing you can afford to have is a superior attitude.
While I was getting a beer in the kitchen, a semi-cute kid named Anton Tuttle walked up. He’s tall and skinny and designs computer games. He told me he’s working on a game right now set during the Spanish Acquisition. (I have no idea what that is. It gets six million hits on google but on a variety of topics.) I tried to escape but he stepped right in front of me and said “We were in the same elective last year. Logic-Psychology with Mrs. Patterson. You don’t remember me because you were too busy being the hottest girl in school.”
“Yes,” I replied, “being
• • •
I texted Jade three times just now. No answer. I bet that bitch is in love again just when I need her most. Probably with the kid in the Santa hat.
I got a birthday card today from Affie. A lame joke card. Only two days late. My dad didn’t write anything inside, just signed it. The hopeless scrawl of a dying man. Usually I spend Christmas with them but this year they’re driving downstate to visit Affie’s mom. I’m glad they will be gone. They both suck.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
I guess the babies got all the crying out of their systems last week because at today’s RIE class (I misspelled it before) there was no crying at all. The babies just laid there on their backs checking each other out like shy kids at a party.
RIE doesn’t believe in tummy time. Most parents put babies on their stomachs a lot, which mashes their faces into the floor or the mattress. They flail around pathetically. RIE believes “Why put a baby through that? Why make him unconfident like that?” They believe a baby will turn himself over when he’s good and ready. I bet my mom gave me a ton of tummy time because even though I have an outgoing personality, deep down I am not confident at all. I can still taste the floor, if you know what I mean.
• • •
Being a great parent is such a massive effort. Margaret is tired all the time. Breastfeeding is really exhausting, she says. And since Cole sleeps in their bed at night, every time he wakes up even for a second he reaches for her boob and it wakes her up. The other day she said she feels like her brain is turning to oatmeal.
The idea of sharing a bed with my husband and my baby is very cozy and appealing but when do you have sex? Never, I bet. Paul must be under intense pressure down there. Ha!
After work I was so desperate for a sympathetic friend I called Merci Gregoris, my big-titted, fake blonde, moley ex-lab partner. She says a bunch of kids from our class are back for Christmas break and having a party. It’s at the house of a computer genius named Freddy Black who wears bow ties every day. Maybe it will be fun. If not at least there’ll be liquor. She’s picking me up in 25 minutes. Must shower!
LATER: 11:48 p.m.
I wanted to leave the second I walked into the party because the house was infested with techies. They will probablymake extremely nice billionaire husbands some day but right now they are shockingly awkward and neurotic. Plus now that they all go to Harvard and M.I.T., they are deeply up their own butts. Which is insane. If you are a scrawny male virgin with acne and greasy hair, the last thing you can afford to have is a superior attitude.
While I was getting a beer in the kitchen, a semi-cute kid named Anton Tuttle walked up. He’s tall and skinny and designs computer games. He told me he’s working on a game right now set during the Spanish Acquisition. (I have no idea what that is. It gets six million hits on google but on a variety of topics.) I tried to escape but he stepped right in front of me and said “We were in the same elective last year. Logic-Psychology with Mrs. Patterson. You don’t remember me because you were too busy being the hottest girl in school.”
“Yes,” I replied, “being
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